The town of Durloch was first established when the original settlers came to Ertain. Many other small settlements were hastily put up against the border of Sendria, and are considered the first line of defence for any horrors that may spawn and breach the border defences. To the civilised and wealthy inhabitants of Ethryn, the capital, they are seen as uncivilised and barbaric. Ethryn is a magical hub where any young man wanting to learn the ways of magic is welcome, and many find themselves fighting in these farthest reaches of Ertain, in a way of payment and training to the higher of their order.

Durloch prospered better than any of the other settlements all along the border. This was largely through luck. At the beginning, the small town was very close to both Castle Daviena and a river that has no apparent fords. Therefore, they were often spared from any attacks and if they were threatened to become overwhelmed the Lord of Daviena would send his forces, should he receive a cry for help. However, there has been no Lord in Castle Daviena for centuries...

Durloch was now a hub for the North-East of Ertain for trade and supplies. Although Durloch maybe in the least amount of danger it has the highest number of guards, this is so it can distribute these forces over the whole North of Ertain.

Durloch is also a diverse place and essentially a barracks for a host of guards of all races and nationality. These guards can be posted at any outpost and put on any mission, some command groups are even sent to Sendria for reconnaissance. General Blarg Gudallsson is the senior figure in Durloch and is in charge of all military events in North Ertain. Blarg is an arrogant Half-Orc though his arrogance is well credited, a Sendrian break through has never breached a single settlement in his five year reign.

The Guard recruit caravan seemed to bumble up the dusty road at a snails pace. Over sixty new recruits were travelling in the caravan some sitting idly on the back of a wagon others riding the newly tamed horses the recruitment officers had bought in Tenimere. They had just crossed a ford at the western point of Thrace River and soon the land was filled with small farming settlements and it became apparent that Northern Ertain was the industrial area were food, supplies and even some strange herbs were being produced in the fertile soil next to the river.

Some farmers waved at the new recruits and their children ran to them throwing a few beaten apples and grapes. Others barely acknowledged them and a few would stop their work and spit on the floor as their wagons trundled past and they held their tools menacingly giving unrelenting stairs. Clearly there was a mixed feelings towards the guard regiments. The more angry of the small folk would throw stones into the cages of the criminals of Tenimore and Morad, obviously not all the guards were honourable.

The day had been hot and many of the already armoured volunteers began to sweat heavily however the midday heat soon subdued the further they moved towards he Sendrian border. By mid-afternoon the skies were overcast and a few of the recruits shared worried looks at one another.

The evening gave a rest to the tired horses and the campfires seemed a little dimmer in the heavy air of Northern Ertain. The other nights had been full of drink and celebration, provided wholly by the Recruitment officers. Tonight however, there were no drinks and everyone was told to be alert. The watch was doubled with an experienced guard showing a new recruit the ropes each time. The night passed with no real event and dawn came quickly for the new recruits.

The morning began with a briefing for them with Lieutenant Tellar, a half-elf born into the North, telling them of the days activity.

“You will no longer have an easy ride, lads. There will be few parties as there had been the way here. For you will be Guards of Ertain and with that comes responsibility.” The Lieutenant shot a glance at the cage of criminals before continuing. “You are all from varying backgrounds and these are to be forgotten you will know little of one another, and any prejudices you have must be left here. We will be at Durloch by nightfall and you will properly briefed by General Blarg Gudallsson himself, he is one of the greatest generals of our time. Here you will be randomly assigned groups and given a standard guards equipment. Consider yourselves briefed!” With that the brisk lieutenant turned and mounted his horse and began to ride.

Everyone scrambled to their allotted wagon or mount in a hurry, no-one wanting to displease their new officers.

The day passed uneventfully and the ranches seemed to thin the closer they got to Durloch, the farmers here however seemed far more friendly to the new recruits than the previous homesteads, there was clearly more trouble here. Soon enough the recruits were there and sure enough dusk was just settling.

Once they had got through the gates they were hastily ushered into the town hall where, sat on a raised dais, were ten senior officers but out of all of them one seemed to have an aura of presence. He was a huge Half-Orc, bristling with muscle, his voice boomed and seemed to shake the entire building.

“You may be seated.” The Half-Orc's voice seemed, although loud, very educated and some of the recruits were shocked by this.

The recruits each found a seat at the many benches and an awkward silence fell over the room, everyone waiting for the dominant Half-Orc to speak. Blarg, however waited until each man and woman had their food on the table before them. Once they had, he began to speak.

“Ladies, Gentlemen you have all come here for different reasons, glory, riches, personal ambition or maybe even to clear your name. Well, you have come to the right place.”
This bought a cheer from the benches. Casually, Blarg took a sip of wine, and continued.
“Down to business then, each of you will be assigned into a 'command group' a party of six guards. You will then in turn be given duties, sometimes you can decide sometimes they will be given to you.”

Blarg then proceeded to read out each name, followed by the command groups number.

“... Wiz, Sir Tranic, Ymerion, Havaluk, Durnbor, and Zuth. Command Group 7940.”

“... Now that you are aware of your comrades you may reside to the barracks and unpack any belongings you have bought with you. The whole group will share a room within the barracks. By tomorrow morning at dawn you will of needed to decide on a leader who will report to us directly and you will choose your first mission. Good night guards.”

(OOC: Okay, well here's the first post I thought it would be an interesting RP opportunity to have to decide on an officer between you. Feel free to post any feelings that you experience on your way here, but it is not vital . I included your way here to show you some of the surrounding area and how the locals feel about the guards of Ertain.)

As the guards rode, the anger of the locals surprised Sir Tranic. He had always assumed that guards would be well liked. They did keep orders after all. For the rest of the ride to Durloch, he began to ponder if the guards were as good people as he thought.
Sir Tranic preferred to stay perfectly sober during the parties. Since the attack on his family, he always feared for the worst. Even in these safe circumstances, with lots of people he preferred to stay combat ready.
Sir Tranic payed close attention to the lieutenant’s briefing. He didn’t agree with one thing the lieutenant said. You must forget your background and prejudices. Sir Tranic didn’t believe he could even if he wanted to. He knew that if he ever encountered the foes who burned his land down, he would eliminate them. Of course, he wouldn’t tell his officers that.
The evening when they went to the town hall, Sir Tranic was relieved. Finally, he was within the relative safety of a city. He jumped, however, when the general loudly told them to be seated. He hoped that no one noticed. When his food arrived, Tranic began to eat. It was hard, but Tranic managed to keep most of his attention on the general, instead of his food. He heard his command group called. He was surprised to here the general put the ‘sir’ in front of his name. Apparently, his title got to stay with him. He made sure that none of his group were his enemies. When he was positive none of them were, he went back to eating. After he finished his food, and the general stopped talking, he asked around to find his comrades. He knew he wouldn’t be the leader, but he still wanted to know who he was with. ‘Ah guard duty,” Tranic thought as he looked for his group,” not the greatest job, but I can use my skills in it”

Does a tree, robbed of its roots, still know that it’s a tree? Does it know to seek water, or does it helplessly wonder at the despair of thirst?
Farreus the storyteller

---

Rocking back and forth on the back of one of the wagons, Ymerion kept to himself. Thoughts ran in circles through his head, chasing each other, colliding at times. There were many questions he needed answered, but for now there was only one prominent issue that required his attention.

Why was he heading back to the Sendrian border?

He had barely made it out of that dreadful land of torture and wicked power games. He desperately wanted to call is a God-forsaken place, but he knew Tyrannis was having a blast there. Gods were like people; they came in all shapes and sizes. If you were lucky, you knew to evade the bad ones. And Ymerion had done just that.

When he had crawled his way to safety, he frantically had fled into the woods. He didn’t know why. Instinct just took over and he had hauled himself into the comforting embrace of green leaves and sturdy trunks. Next to a cool stream he had collapsed and awoken two days later.

Wandering the forest, searching for a clue to where he was he had stumbled upon a road. And the Caravan had passed. Without thinking, the ranger had jumped onto one of the wagons. He needed to blend in, he told himself later, and that’s what he was doing. Fact was, he didn’t really know what had compelled him to join the ranks of strangers. Perhaps, in the company of people, even if he didn’t know who they were, he felt less lost. It was only later, when evening had settled and a camp had been made that he learned of the true purpose of the Caravan.

The question still rang in his head. But he knew, somewhere back in the dark shadows of his mind, that he was heading back for Sendria because he had no other choice. Or rather, he did have choices; he just didn’t think any of his other options were any better.

So, when General Blarg called out to them and said: “Ladies, Gentlemen you have all come here for different reasons, glory, riches, personal ambition or maybe even to clear your name. Well, you have come to the right place,” he did cheer. And if felt good to do so, with a drink in his hand and food on his plate. This was a life, as good as any, and answers would come.

In time they would come.

He was sure of it.

Almost.

Then they were assigned to a command group. Group 7940 was a funny handful of left-overs, it seemed. Ymerion felt sorry for the human, being the only one of the majority of the population of Ertain, and being put in a group with only outsiders. Ymerion himself didn’t mind. But the question of who was to become leader was an interesting one.

He looked around the faces of the group, introducing himself with a good handshake to all of them. When dinner was over, he headed over to the barracks and made his place at the bottom of one of the bunk beds.

“Ok guys,” he said, laying down on the slightly uncomfortable straw mattress, “they want us to pick a leader of the group. I nominate the half orc.”

He pointed at Havaluk.

“They won’t expect it from us, and the General is a half orc as well. People tend to generalise. If they hold Blarg in high esteem, they might do the same for his kind.”

Wiz rode happily in the wagon, there were lots of interesting people to talk to and many items left lying around that he figured he should hang on to until finding its proper owner. Funny that none of them were claimed by the time the trip was over. "Some folks are just careless" he thought to himself. The only disturbing part of the trip was when it was announced that there were to be less parties in the near future. Not that it mattered, there were many other ways to pass the time.

One the group of new recruits, what exactly a recruit is and how he became one was a bit fuzzy to Wiz but so far it seemed fun, reached town the were fed and then a kind of ugly fellow who was certainly not a fun type called out names and group numbers. Then it was up to the recruits to find their group. Upon finding his group, Wiz was intrigued, there certainly was a varied group. Moving into the room they had been assigned Wiz saw the sets of bunkbeds, "OK, I don't care which set of bunks I take but I do need the bottom bunk. I can barely reach those, the top bunk is just not a good idea for one of my height." As he set out his kit, someone reminded the group that a leader was needed. Taking out a piece of jerky, Wiz hopped up on his bed and readied himself for the discussion he was sure would follow. He was a bit surprised when it was but forth that the half-orc, another of the not very good looking fellows, was suggested. "Will he find us interesting jobs? I only want to do interesting jobs. The guard thing sounds boring; doing the same thing over and over, that is booooring." Wiz took another bite of jerky, "make sure you keep track of your stuff, there were alot of items lost on our trip here." As he laid them out he added "See, I found all these on the trip and this one over here (a small dagger) was just lying around in the room earlier. Good thing I found it or it would still be lost." He tucked it into his belt and took another bite of jerkey.

Durnbor entered the barracks area with the other members of his assigned group, quickly surveyed the room where they were assigned a sleeping quarters, then made a beeline for the nearest bunk bed closest to the door and unhesitatingly climbed the ladder to the top bunk.

Command Group 7940 was comprised of some of the most unlikely characters to assemble together to guard a town or defend an oppressed people against the onslaught of evil enemies.

Durnbor arranged his belongings at the head of his bed. There was still plenty of room for the 4'5" 140lb Khord Cleric of Solanis to stretch out and relax. Afterall, the bed he had chosen was large enough for the frame of a 7' warrior of any particular race to find suitable rest after an arduous campaign against the evil elements one may be called upon to war against.

As he lay there in quiet meditation, Durnbor recalled the most valuable lesson that he had learned from the teachings of Solanis, in regards to interacting with others, no matter what their race or social background. Criticizing others was not the path of light that a follower of Solanis was to follow!

Criticism in thoughts, words, deeds or actions was a certain way to cause the power of the light of Solanis to be dissolved and erased from one's life, especially a Cleric of Solanis.

It was the quickest path to plunging a Dawnbringer into the darkness where the enemies of Solanis were lurking and seeking to slay the unsuspecting.

Therefore, when the Sylvari Ranger named Ymerion had suggested that the Half Orc named Havaluk be appointed their leader, he merely nodded his approval, awaiting the outcome as to whether or not Havaluk would accept or reject the suggestion.

Durnbor was content to play a supporting role in the days ahead, ready to mend the wounds of his comrades, or fight by their sides in battle against any dark evil that the light of Solanis needed to be called upon to set the oppressed free!

This Khord Cleric of Solanis had been sent forth by his fellow Dawnbringers for a specific purpose. It mattered not to Durnbor whether or not he was elected as leader of Command Group 7940. His intent was to serve Solanis and fulfill the quest that had been entrusted to him by his fellow Dawnbringers.

That purpose would mayhap be better served by allowing one of the other members of Command Group 7940 to serve as their leader. Durnbor trusted that Solanis would guide him in this matter!

Surrounded by people he didn't know nor care to know, The one known as 'Onyxbeard' sat admist the group of people within the same wagon he resided that he knew wouldn't make it long enough to even be a close acquaintance and thought,
"Bah.. These short lived humans, How do they live so cheerily in chaos and short-lived without.. No, best not to dwell upon that.."
He continuously contemplated the seemingly pseudo-complexity that humans were as they went through the lands towards the town called Durloch, passing way-wards farms with mixed reactions from their inhabitants.
On the first night of the true watch where nervousness was strife and ripe in the air as the more experienced guards began to "show them the ropes" and the dwarf wondered which one of these men would make an impact and which ones would fail to ascent to proper livelihood and fail to be honorable.
Then with the announcement of the lieutenant and that.. odd name, This one began to wonder if he should be more worried about the tolerance warning he had been issued and if he'd be put in more disdainful situation than he'd like. After that as they got closer to their destination he noticed the lingering respect in the farmer's eyes as they knew the protection that would come and continue to be brought due to their quest and when they reached the town they were rushed into the town hall that lacked the rigidity of a dwarves homestead and held together by bits of wood, almost as fleeting as those damned elves.
Blarg was a poor Half-orc, a shame since he was the best 'Human' he'd seen on this trip and the most honorable that this dwarf had seen since his left his home but he wouldn't dwell on such besmirched memory, He had just barely caught the names of his group and wondered about the other dwarf and if he'd know of his namesake and before he knew it everyone was retired and he figured he'd fallow suit and make it to Group 7940's barracks.
He'd introduced himself along with the others and after Ymerion's declaration of leadership towards the Half-orc he asked,
"But, Would he live up to such namesake? To live in the shadow of a mountain would have you believe you are not on your own path."
Onyxbeard had also quickly decided that Wiz was not of sound mind when he had heard his ramble of the knife and would be keeping a closer eye on this one, But the one that kept his interest the most was the Dawnbringing one of his own, though he followed a good path would he be as sacrilegious as those sunbaked humans or not?
Though he seemed to be doing the same as himself, just contemplating those within their group and thinking of the future and what it would bring to this band of misfits.

Wiz waited a very long time, at least for him so probably about 3 minutes, before deciding this waiting was rather boring. He took out a couple of small bean bags and began to practice his juggling. He had seen it done a few times and it had not looked very hard. Unfortunatley he seemed to have a bit more of a challenge than he expected. Soon beanbags were flying in all directions, sometimes landing on the floor and others on the bed. It seemed the only place they didn't land was his hands. One of the beanbags found its way onto an overhead beam well out of Wiz's reach. Looking a bit dejected Wiz focused on teh offending beanbag, "Bad beanbags, can you not just come down here in my hand". At that moment the beanbag seemed to almost move of its own volition and fell off the beam right into Wiz's open hand. "Now thats better" Wiz went back to practicing without any marked improvement.

Havaluk sat on the back of the rocking wagon, sighing in contempt at the situation he was forced into. Hiding out in the wilds to escape a fate like the rest of them sure seemed like a good idea at the time, but now with his aching back side and grumbling stomach he wasn't so sure.

Looking around at the rest of the people he really wondered how many volunteered and how many were pressed into this line of work. He had to guess a good chunk of them were like him, or at least he hoped. If not, then he surely was more out of place then he even imagined. Now though, he just had to make best of the situation he was given. The locals around here sure weren't making it easier for him though.

After a few days travel the farmers and families seemed to turn a leaf on how they treated the caravan of guards. Word was that these people knew first hand the work that the guards put up, the work that he soon would be doing too.

Past the thinning farmsteads out here they reached the gates and were soon brought into a keep, where food and drink were waiting. A group of soldiers sat at a table on one side of the room while the rest of them sat and ate.

Havaluk couldn't help but push his messy black hair back and dig into his plate, the last good meal that wasn't rations or hard tack being over a week ago.

The half breed like himself named Blarg went off on a speech on what they'll be doing, where they are assigned, and their other duties. He could of said anything at that point, Havaluk was too content enjoying his wine that he had no other care in the world. His attention was only snapped back up when his name was spoken.

"Seven thousand, nine hundred and forty. Hmph, hope these guys aren't any sort of hard ass." He spoke to himself in between sips.

He stood up and hauled his gear but not before draining his cup and stuffing the last of his bread in his mouth, heading off to he barracks.

When he arrived, he looked around and took in the motley crew around him.

Oh by the gods, TWO stunty sticks in the mud?
He sighed heavily and threw his gear on the top bunk of the beds, and sat in a chair. Soon enough a discussion of leader came up and his name was first in the hat.

"Whoa whoa now, I don't want to be jumping straight into anything too deep. Does anyone even want to volunteer for this first?" If not, then I guess I could be your mouth piece for that haughty tough guy up on the chair there, but don't expect too much."

While speaking, Havaluk motioned back to the town hall where they came from, hinting at Blarg and his air of arrogance.

As Sir Tranic began to ask around for his group several guards began to leave. He realised that he didn't actually eat as fast as he thought. Sir Tranic decided it would be best to go to his bunk room.
When Sir Tranic arrived at his bunk room, he was suprised to see that he realised he was the only human in his group. In a human empire. Sir Tranic listened to the discussion on who will be leader. He was highly suprised when no one volunteered, but someone instead was volunteered. Tranic stated to the group," I am unable to be the leader. I have too many things in my past to be a good leader." He turned to Havaluk, who was volunteered. "If you think you can be leader, I will support you." Tranic climbed up on to his bed. He wasn't planning to sleep yet, but this was the first time he could lay down on a actual bed.

Wiz listened to the new arrival. "Too many things in your past? Well what sort of things? I like things. Of course having too many things can be a hassle as there are just not enough pockets to carry them all. Of course I just replace an old item with a new one when I find it." Rummaging in his pockets Wiz came up with a button. "See, things like this just find their way to me. Never know when a good button will come in handy. Wiz replaced the button and looked back at the new arrival, "So what kind of things do you have?"

Havuluk shrugged and chuckled to himself, leaning on the post of one of the bunks.

"Fine, if none of you sorry lot think you can lead, I'll do it. Don't expect me to work miracles though."

He grunted and turned towards the door.

"I'm going outside for a breather, if you guys vote on a new leader while I'm out, I don't mind, really."

Havuluk turned and exited the building, sitting on the ground while watching the sky above.

What in all the hells have I gotten my self into...

Watching his fellow guards, Ymerion smiled softly. It was an odd bunch, but he felt like there was a promise to the lot of them. It would take some time, but the potential would eventually surface.

One of the Khords, he would still have to figure out who was who, replied to his suggestion for Havaluk to be leader: "But, Would he live up to such namesake? To live in the shadow of a mountain would have you believe you are not on your own path."
Ymerion wanted to reply, but he didn't have to. The half-orc spoke first, and his words formed no objection. They indicated that he didn't desire to be leader, but that was perhaps exactly what they needed. Better somebody who doesn't think he's suited than some overconfident hothead.

In the next few moments, nobody else stepped up or voiced their reservations. Ymerion held his tongue to see what would happen.

"Fine, if none of you sorry lot think you can lead, I'll do it. Don't expect me to work miracles though."
"We don't expect it." the sylvari ranger said, warmly, "and therefore you'll surprise us all."

He got up from the bunkbed and nodded to Havaluk's mention of going outside.

"Mind if I join you? We can waste our time laying here, but I'd rather see what the lay out of this encampment is."

(OOC: the intention is to get a good view of the group's current situation. Where are their barracks, where are the tents/buildings of their direct superiors. Where does Blarg have this quarters. Also, how far are they from the bourder exactly. That kind of stuff is what he hopes to find out.)

"Oh a tour of the camp. That sounds like fun. Who knows what might be lying around waiting to be found. Perhaps we will find somethign interesting to do. Sitting here is getting rather boring." Wiz prepared to follow the others outside.

After the new recruits had eaten it was time for each command group to find their lodgings and choose the boldest among them to be their leader. In one such room however, there was a struggle to decide on who would be captain. Usually these problems arise when there is two or more egotistical members of such a group and disputes, often brutal ones, break out. Room 7940 was quite the opposite however as no-one wanted to lead, clearly none had experience as leaders and were mainly followers in their respective organisations.

Eventually, after some lengthy introductions and some small-talk about their new environment, the subject of who was to be their Captain came up. One name was put forward by the mysterious Sylvari Ranger, Ymerion.

“Ok guys,” he said, laying down on the slightly uncomfortable straw mattress, “they want us to pick a leader of the group. I nominate the half orc.”

He pointed at Havaluk.

“They won’t expect it from us, and the General is a half orc as well. People tend to generalise. If they hold Blarg in high esteem, they might do the same for his kind.”

Instead of responding in a serious manner, the small halfling sorcerer began a rant about interesting jobs and which bunk-bed would suit his height the best. All in all the small magic-user had a very uninterested demeanour about who was their leader and wasn't fussed as long as they chose 'intriguing missions.'

Durnbor the Dawnbringer stretched his short frame on the human sized bed and sat in quiet prayer and meditation, as well casting his eyes over each member of the group. When the suggestion of Havaluk as leader was mentioned he only nodded in agreement.

The other Khord cleric, Zuth Onyxbeard, also chose a bunk and regarded the others steadily. Keeping largely quiet, until Ymerions suggestion of Havaluk as leader. Zuth was the first to cast a negative over the Sylvari's suggestion.

"But, Would he live up to such namesake? To live in the shadow of a mountain would have you believe you are not on your own path."

After these wise words he once again fell silent seemingly in prayer like the other stocky cleric.

Havaluk was the largest of the group and also had a vague resemblance to Blarg, if not only to those who had not met many Half-orcs before. He had been nominated as group leader and was unsure at being given this role. His reaction to being their leader was not... enthusiastic.

"Whoa whoa now, I don't want to be jumping straight into anything too deep. Does anyone even want to volunteer for this first?" If not, then I guess I could be your mouth piece for that haughty tough guy up on the chair there, but don't expect too much."

While speaking, Havaluk motioned back to the town hall where they came from, hinting at Blarg and his air of arrogance.

However, there were no more volunteers and it was looking very likely that Havaluk may have to live up to the expectations of Half-orcs here at the Border guards Barracks.

Sir Tranic and Wiz piped up in their support of Havaluk being leader, although in very different ways. Therefore Havaluk seemed to have no choice but accept his new role.
Havuluk shrugged and chuckled to himself, leaning on the post of one of the bunks.

"Fine, if none of you sorry lot think you can lead, I'll do it. Don't expect me to work miracles though."

He grunted and turned towards the door.

"I'm going outside for a breather, if you guys vote on a new leader while I'm out, I don't mind, really."

Command group 7640 had chosen their leader, and Havaluk decided to have a nose around at their new surroundings. He wasn't alone for long however as the Sylvari ranger, who had nominated the half-orc piped up once more and told him he would come with him.

Wiz also decided he would go, on the logic that more interesting things might be found and it was a chance to annoy the other two party members.

(OOC: I am going to wait and see if anyone else wants to come on an exploration of the local barracks, though you can't leave the barracks ground, as it's dark I am sure there will be some interesting things and information to be found.)